Cross-posted on FanFiction, AO3, and Spacebattles
The pair of idiots were up to something again.
It was October. The city had breathed and exhaled, flushing away the humidity of the summer season to the south. The air was crisp and without the clinginess of rain, carrying hints of the colder months to come.
Emiya leaned into the wooden bench, an arm draped over the backrest that was all too tall for his stature. The cacophony of children stomping against fallen leaves pressed against his eardrums. Behind him and away from the playground, a tuft of raven black and fiery red poked out from low-trimmed bushes around the corner of the building.
This time, their targets have shifted to him, and he couldn't help but notice the parallels between his predicament and that of the centaur the girls had harassed over two months ago. Academia has limited their prowling from the streets of New York to the hallways of elementary school. With nowhere to conduct their research on monsters, they had settled to study him instead. The silver lining was that he wasn't strung along to wherever they deemed fit to go adventuring. That, and they've yet to attempt to lure him in with a carrot on a stick.
Shame. He would have enjoyed their cowering forms as he deducted their desserts one serving at a time. Poor Percy—always spurred into trouble by Rachel. Ironic, given how the one without ADHD was the instigator of their troubles.
Even now, he could hear their hushed conversation over the children's yells and screams.
"Um… Are you sure about that?"
"Yes! I'm super sure! A hundred percent!"
"…Okay," Percy paused. "…Are you really sure he grows faster than… us?"
"Yup! Trust me!"
"Uh… Well…"
The bushes rustled, followed by the faint sound of hands clasping onto shoulders.
"I have better grades, don't I?"
"Uh, I guess… But what's this have to do with—"
"It means I'm smarter!"
"…You said this last time," Percy paused again. "And we hit a car."
"We don't have any carrots today," Rachel's voice was filled with confidence.
"…Uh, okay. I guess…?"
"C'mon, take a photo. We need to… hmm, yes, document this."
"What if he hears us?"
"Nah, we're too far away. There's no way he'll hear the camera. Also, see? We're talking right now, and he isn't hearing."
Emiya rolled his eyes and returned to his cloud gazing.
Snap.
Shutters clicked from behind the bushes.
Vrrrr…
The polaroid churned as it ejected a photo.
"Quick, wave it."
Flap. Flap. Flap…
"How is it? Is it good? Is the image clear? Maybe we should go closer? But then he might catch us."
"Uh," the tomboy struggled to reply and offered a simpler solution, "here."
The shrubbery rustled as the photo was exchanged. "Hm…"
"I think it's good, Rachel. And, uh, any closer and he'll really hear us."
"…Okay! Good enough! You keep watch, I need to go pee."
"Wait—"
"Be right back!" The leaves wobbled again, and a fiery tousle darted out from behind. "And take more photos if you can!" Rachel's voice tapered off into the distance.
"What?" Percy hissed. "Rachel—"
Emiya stood up from the bench and stretched.
"—don't leave me here…!"
In the blink of an eye, Emiya was gone from the playground. The glass doors sealed shut, and the din of lunch break was replaced by the silent thuds of his footfalls. Ahead of him, the slow build of a happy tune buoyed in the air, echoing as the source approached from another hallway. Squeaky steps bounced through the walls as a mane of red skipped across the cross-section ahead. A moment later, he arrived at the same junction, the last of the red curls vanishing into the restrooms to his right. Emiya pivoted to his left and made for the opposite direction from where Rachel had come.
Soon, he was out of the building, exiting from one of the side entrances. His strides carried him behind a mess of raven-black hair poking over low-trimmed foliage.
"Oh, Rachel, you're back? Can you help me look around?" The tomboy scanned the horizon with her navy-colored camera, face pressed against the device as she peeped through the viewfinder. "I can't find Emmie. I think he moved."
"Did he now?" He watched the back of her head rotate from side to side like a little turret.
"Yeah, he's not on the bench. And I don't see him anywhere I look."
"How interesting. And where might he be?"
"Um, maybe inside the building?"
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," she nodded into her polaroid. "Cuz' I don't see him outside."
"And what would he be doing inside?"
"Uh, I don't know? Reading? Books and stuff. Maybe trying to remember a dictionary."
"Oh? A dictionary?"
"I bet that's how he knows all those big words! That's how he acts all, uh, pri… pr-pridily, um… pridely—"
"Prideful."
"Right! Pridelyful! He learns all these big words so he can correct us, and… and act high and midey—"
"Mighty."
"Yeah, just like that! He's always correcting us like that! He's a, uh… right! A grammar police!"
"Not really," Emiya hummed. "More so a spelling police, if anything. We shouldn't forsake the basics and skip to the advanced. We'll get to the grammar part once we get the spelling department past the lowest functioning threshold."
"Uh, yeah, okay. But see? What you're doing right now!" One of her hands released the camera and waved indignantly. "That's the same—super same—as what he does! Always acting like a smarty-pants!"
"I see. However, have you considered that maybe, instead, it's because you're not too bright?"
"Uh, okay, Rachel. I get it, you can stop acting like Emmie… But the point is!" Her head reared defiantly. "He also makes fun of me! And he keeps taking away our desserts! And he likes to sneak up on people and scare them!"
"Maybe if you behaved, you would have kept your treats."
"Rachel!" Percy faltered in her overwatch. "Stop, ugh…! Why are you helping him? Whatever, we'll catch him. And then we can tell him that we know his secret!"
"Hoh? And what do you plan to do with that secret?"
Percy scratched her messy hair. "Make him make more desserts for us? And tell him he can't take away our desserts? Something like that?"
Emiya snorted. "What a, hm… obtuse plan."
"Er… I mean, you came up with it…?" Percy lowered her camera. "…Wait a minute—"
Her body twisted around, and Emiya stepped forward, moving into the spot she faced just a second ago, sliding perfectly out of her peripherals.
Percy blinked, her eyes flitting around for signs of another person. "Um… Rachel?"
Emiya plucked his photo from the distracted girl. Too much blur. The girl needed to steady her camera more.
"…Erm…" Percy gulped, still unaware of the film pilfered from between her fingertips. She scanned the back alley of the school nervously. "…E-Emmie…?"
A child yelled in the playground.
The tomboy jumped and tripped over her own feet, diving stomach first into the ground. When the dust settled, she lay motionless as the tips of her ears began to glow bright and pink.
Emiya noted how she managed to clutch her camera high above her head in strained arms—a clumsy but successful save despite her faceplant. Decent reflexes.
Groaning, Percy picked herself up, the tips of her ears shaded crimson. "…Right… er… yeah, stupid. What am I thinking…"
"I was wondering the same," Emiya drawled.
The girl turned rigid as a stick.
"You seem to have quite some spare time on your hands."
"A-Ah…" Her head cranked around like a rusted robot. "E-Emmie…"
He nodded. "Too much, in fact."
She jumped around, her eyes wide. "W-Wait! I'm sorry, please! D-Don't… Don't take away the desserts!"
"Oh, don't worry. You get to keep those."
"R-Really?" Curious, Percy scuttled up to him.
"For now," Emiya observed the taller girl leaning over him, hope swimming in her green eyes, "yes."
"For now?" Percy hugged her polaroid tighter.
"'Pridily,' 'pridely,' and 'pridelyful,'" Emiya counted slowly. He tilted his head. "Right, and 'midey,' was it?"
"Erm…" Suddenly, she seemed to have found a deep interest in studying her polaroid.
"Your vocabulary. Seems to me you still have a long way to go. Why don't you come and read dictionaries with me?"
"Uh…" She hunched her shoulders, rubbing her polaroid nervously.
"Since, apparently, that's what I do in my spare time."
"W-Well…" Percy scrunched her face. Her fidgeting was replaced by a tight grip on her camera. "Can we, uh, not do that?"
Emiya stared at the girl.
"Cuz', y'know, it's not good learning if we just read the dictionary… r-right?" She hesitated before shuffling closer to him.
The end of her camera poked into his chest. Emiya placed a finger against the device and pushed it back towards the ignorant girl.
"Like," she pursed her lips, "…you know, the teachers always say we have to use the words, like, in a sentence… or something… so…"
"I agree," he nodded.
"…R-Really?" Percy snapped her eyes up. Her dumbfounded expression morphed into joy. "R-Right! So, we shouldn't just read the dictionary!"
"Precisely." The girl was finally learning to remember what the school had taught her. "That's why for every new word in the dictionary, you will also use it in a sentence. Let's see… Five words per day should be a good amount."
Percy blinked.
"Write them down. It could be on a piece of paper, a notebook… your choice. But I'll be examining them at the beginning of break," Emiya considered for a moment, "starting tomorrow."
Percy blinked again.
The bell sounded in the distance.
"We should head back to class," Emiya started for the building, leaving the rigid girl behind. "Remember, five new words crafted into sentences, due tomorrow at break. I suggest you don't forget unless you want your treats deducted. Oh, and if you wish, you could also submit them early. Tonight, perhaps, before it slips your mind…"
The voices of homeroom teachers gathering their students sounded over the cacophony of the children. Slowly, the disordered flow of students trickled towards the entrance of the school, leaving the air hanging with the quiet honks from the streets.
Percy blinked a third time. "Um…"
Before her, the track and field lay deserted. A draft of cold October wind rustled the tiny shrubbery she stood behind.
Percy shivered.
Her mouth opened and closed. Finally, after a long while, she managed to squeeze out a single word towards the empty playground. "…What?"
"Apollo," Hestia called to her overly flamboyant nephew.
The only response was his shiny Parthenon that seemingly beamed back at her under the setting sun.
Was he away? Hestia tilted her head, her mousy brown locks falling to one side. Shame, she was just about to follow up on the progress of his search. Not that she was expecting anything. After all, it had been decades since she'd first asked him for help in finding the man from her visions.
She turned around, ready to head back to camp when, suddenly, the world flashed white.
"Aunt Hestia!" A voice called.
"Apollo," she turned around, her dress swaying lightly in the wind. "I'm glad you are as lively as ever."
The golden man before her grinned, his teeth gleaming blindingly. "Of course, who wouldn't be when they are in your presence! Care for a drink?" He pointed at his Parthenon behind her.
The golden structure glowed brightly against the orange sky.
Hestia pursed her lips. She wasn't keen on this much light, especially at this hour. But regardless… She nodded. "Sure."
The inside of the palace was made of marble, glass, and… more gold—essentially anything that was white and shiny. Soft steps echoed with the sound of trickling fountains as Hestia followed Apollo into a courtyard deep within the structure. Laurel trees stood over sweeps of hyacinth flowers. Between the well-kept flora, a path led up to a picnic table. The beautiful scenery ended where the massive, golden Apollo statue was erected.
"How have you been lately?" Hestia brushed away a leaf that tumbled towards her.
"Couldn't be better. Well, if the old man would stop pestering me, then life would be perfect," Apollo shrugged, pulling out a chair for her.
"Thank you," Hestia nodded, tucking her dress under her as she sat. "Is it about the divinity from a few months ago?"
"Yep," Apollo plopped down, kicking up his feet and crossing his legs. "He's been getting a bit cranky lately. Not like that would expedite things. Honestly, if he wanted someone suited for the job, like a hunter or a detective, then he should've assigned the task to Arty or Bird Brains."
"Be nice, Apollo."
"You know Athena would love to solve a mystery like this," Apollo snorted. A tea set appeared on the table. The scented steam wafted and curled into the air.
Hestia took a cup into her hands.
"Plus," nabbing two sugar cubes with a tweezer, Apollo dunked them into his own tea, "she's at a bottleneck with her current research. I think she'd appreciate a short break."
They hung out? With each other? Hestia blinked. "You know what she's up to?"
"Mhm. Just visited her. I was about to recite a poem, but apparently, her time was short. Must've been frustrated with her project. She did say progress had been a crawl," Apollo hummed to himself. "Now that I think about it, she seemed pretty cranky as well, must've gotten it from Zeus."
So Apollo just found someone else to bother. Hestia sipped her tea. It was more than likely Athena was simply fed up with his antics. "Did she say what she's been working on?"
Apollo shrugged. "Not really, but the project's been underway since… slightly over three years ago, I believe. Don't think she's made much progress on it, however. I told her she was going to get frown lines, and she kicked me out. Rude."
"Maybe you could have phrased your concerns… more tactfully? I'm sure she would appreciate your thoughts if you expressed it in a less construed approach."
Confusion clouded his expression. "But she was going to get frown lines."
"…Be nice, Apollo."
"She needs to loosen up. Anyway," Apollo gulped down his tea. The cup was immediately refilled, and he dropped two more sugar into the beverage. "If you're here for news regarding the same guy, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Like usual, I've got nothing on him."
Oh. Hestia hugged her cup. Well, she was expecting that. But it was disappointing, nonetheless. "Nothing at all?"
"Nope. Man," Apollo whistled, "if only you had shown as much interest in any of us as you did this guy, maybe Poseidon or I would've had a chance."
"It's not like that, Apollo."
"Perhaps, but it sure is a lot more investment than you've shown anyone, or anything else, as a matter of fact."
Did she come off as that eager? That… desperate? Hestia peered down at her tea, studying her own reflection. The woman who stared back wore a sense of glum between her eyebrows. Hestia breathed, schooling her expression. "He is… someone I have to meet."
"Oh, I don't doubt that at all. And I would love to help, but I haven't come across anyone with white hair and grey eyes. Maybe a handful of old men, but that's all they were—old men, nothing special."
"And the name 'Emiya?' Do you have any leads on that?"
"Nope."
"What about 'Shirou?'"
"Well, when I was visiting Japan this spring, I did come across a dog named 'Shiro,'" Apollo tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If you're looking for the owners, I believe they're called the Noharas. They live in Kasukabe, in the Saitama prefecture."
A dog? That's… Hestia opened and closed her mouth. "…I see." She had held onto the improbable hope that there'd finally be news, but it seemed like they were fantasies in the end, as they were—as she knew—from the very beginning.
"Speaking of looking for mysterious and untraceable individuals," Apollo adopted quite the ludicrous thinking pose. "What are your thoughts on the divinity back in August?"
"That's… Well…" Placing her cup down, Hestia considered the sudden shift in topic. "There was an odd sense of familiarity. I know it wasn't our divinities… but…"
Apollo waited for her to continue.
"It didn't feel wrong." Hestia closed her eyes and savored the memory.
"But you've never experienced something quite alike?"
"If you're asking because I am the eldest of the siblings, no," she shook her head. "Perhaps… you should seek Aphrodite regarding this matter. You are on good terms with her, right?"
"Aphrodite… I see, that would make sense…"
Hestia took another sip of her tea.
How peculiar.
This feeling continued to tug at her chest.
She couldn't understand. For whatever reason, whenever she grasped that moment in her memory, living through those nights when that beacon of divinity had flared throughout the city… she couldn't help but wonder…
Where did this sense of urgency come from?
"Sally Jackson," Sally leaned slightly over the counter.
Out of nowhere, her stomach growled, and she tried to play her best poker face.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Jackson." If the receptionist noticed, he didn't show. Instead, he greeted her and picked up the phone. "I'll notify them of your arrival. One moment please."
Straightening herself slowly, she let her eyes wander, pretending that her stomach had not just announced itself to the world. If only she hadn't skipped lunch…
Click.
"Good afternoon, this is Daniel from the concierge desk…" the receptionist paused. "…Yes, good afternoon to you as well, Percy. Is there anyone else with you? May I speak with…"
Through the muffled speakers, the excited exclamations of her daughter burst through as the staff responded calmly.
Sally smiled.
It had taken a while to convince Percy that it was alright for her to use electronic devices so long as she was wearing her locket. However, once the girl had understood and accepted the change of circumstances, she took every chance to use the phone. Now, whenever Sally visited the Dare residence, more likely than not, her daughter would be the one to answer the reception.
"This way please," the receptionist motioned for Sally to follow along.
A minute later, Sally exited the private lift.
"Mom!"
"Ms. Jackson!"
Two blurs of black and red shot towards her, leaving the door of the penthouse wide open. Sally caught her daughter-turned-torpedo in a hug as Rachel skidded to a halt, dithering just out of reach with big, seeking eyes. Opening another arm, the woman huffed as the redheaded launched head first into her waist. Ruffling their hair, she guided them back into the residence. It took another minute and steady petting on her part before they released her.
Placing her bag down, Sally sat on the sofa in the living room. Percy and Rachel bounded after her.
"So? What were you guys up to?" Sally brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, studying the children.
Percy sulked. "Homework…"
"Watching Perce do homework," Rachel added in all seriousness.
Sagging her shoulders, Percy snuggled her face into Sally's side. "…Stupid dictionary. Stupid word. Stupid sentence…"
Sally stroked the girl's raven locks. "I thought you already finished your weekly vocabulary assignment. It was during the weekends, right?"
"He did! On Sunday!" Rachel answered for her friend.
Percy grumbled.
"I can't hear you like this. You need to speak louder, sweetie."
Percy huffed into her side. "…Stupid Emmie assigned it…"
"Language," Sally tapped her daughter's forehead.
"Don't worry, Ms. Jackson!" Rachel jumped down from the couch and crossed her arms on her hips. "We'll strike back! We found his secret! Now we just have to gather the evidence! And then he will never dare to punish us ever again! And we'll make him make more cookies, cakes, and puddings!"
Percy moaned in agreement as she continued to rub her face into Sally's stomach.
The woman tilted her head. "Is that… so?"
"Yup!" Rachel bobbed her head and ran to Percy's side, tugging on her friend's shirt. "The photo, Perce! Show Ms. Jackson the photo! Ms. Jackson, we got a photo of Emmie while he wasn't looking! This is only the start. We'll have more evidence in the future…!" The redhead ended with a squeeze of her fist.
The rubbing against Sally's stomach stopped.
"Right…!" Percy popped her head up and started digging through her pockets. "The photo… Let me find it…"
Nodding, Sally searched the room. "I don't see Emiya," Sally asked Rachel. Normally, the boy would've shown up by now, giving the frenzied girls a good scare. It worked magic in reigning them in, but Sally had a hunch that he did it for his own amusement, more than anything else. "Is he in the kitchen?"
Rachel shrugged. "Dunno. He disappeared. But he left some food for you in the fridge, though. And he also left a note with it. I think that's it. That's all he said… Oh!" Rachel hammered her fist into her palm. "And don't microwave pudding!"
Sally blinked. "He made pudding?"
"I dunno. But just don't microwave pudding if you find any."
"Right," Sally nodded at the self-assured girl. That last bit probably wasn't part of Emiya's message then. "I won't microwave any pudding, and thanks for telling me about the food, Rachel."
"No problemo!"
Sally stood up from the couch. Elusive as the boy may be, she had a clue as to where Emiya was. "I'll be right back, Percy, Rachel. Just… continue with what you were doing before… and don't get in trouble, okay?"
"Okay!" Rachel gave her a thumbs up.
"Ugh…" Percy grunted from the other end of the sofa. The girl was crouched over her backpack, her arm shoulder deep inside the sack, and the pockets of her shorts hung inside out as she stirred around. "…Where did it go…?"
Rachel sidled up to Percy. "Find the photo?"
"…I swear I had it…"
The trek to the rooftop was quick.
Sally had only been up here once before—on that rainy night of Percy's birthday—but she had a feeling that the boy had to be here. With a silent hiss, the pneumatic doors opened. The antechamber was flooded with the afternoon taste of Brooklyn, washed thin by the cool, high-rise currents.
She strode past the doors. The sky was crimson and orange.
Cut out against the fiery skyline and on the edge of the helipad was a boy's silhouette.
"Emiya?"
He didn't reply.
Sally approached his figure. A glint of blue caught her eyes. Squinting, the woman moved closer, and against the reflective glare of the setting sun, she saw what he was studying—a blue locket.
Percy's locket.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Emiya—"
And then the details entered her eyes—within the splayed casings, something that didn't belong: photos—two—framed within each half of the locket.
His hand tilted the slightest degree, and the pendant dissolved into molts of blue.
Her steps faltered. The angle had aligned for the briefest of movements. And she had glimpsed it—the photo held within one of those frames. It was a picture of Percy, Rachel, and her. They stood in front of a massive Christmas tree.
The ground was white. And they were smiling.
She couldn't recall taking that photo.
"Sally."
Her eyes found his expressionless face.
"What are you doing up here?"
"I…" She glanced at his empty hand again. It didn't so much as twitch. "I was trying to find you."
"Do you need something?" The boy ignored her searching gaze and, instead, studied her figure.
"Nothing… I was just… swinging by. That's all."
He nodded. "You're thinner."
She blinked. Was she?
He sighed. "Have you not been eating well?"
"Oh." She had lost weight, hadn't she? But what was she supposed to say? That she'd been spending more money on Gabe's needs so she could placate the man? That, as a result, it had cut into the budget for her own meals?
Her lips wriggled, and before she knew it, she had swallowed that confession. Those words would not see the light of day.
The boy didn't like to show it, but she knew how much he could worry.
Those words would not see the light of day.
Not in front of him.
"I had my suspicions," he raised an eyebrow, "but it seems like I am, in actuality, taking care of—not two—but three brats."
"Huh?" She was no brat, Sally huffed. "No—I—"
His brow raised skeptically.
"I, uh, I can take care of myself." Sally pulled at her sleeve. Heavens, was he annoying sometimes. "This is just… this is just temporary."
"No worries," the boy drawled. "It's just one extra brat. Nothing I can't handle."
She shot him an accusatory look. "I'm an adult, Emiya."
"Yes, yes. Don't pout."
Sally turned her cheeks. She wasn't a child.
"I understand," he raised his hands in a lazy surrender. "You are an adult."
"Seriously," she grumbled and snuck a glance at him.
He nodded. "Of course—"
Growl.
Her stomach chose the perfect moment to chime in. Sally blinked, fighting to hold eye contact as if nothing had transpired.
"…Sally Jackson—" He began walking towards the entrance behind her. The sudden glint in his eyes wasn't lost upon her. "—the most adultly adult…"
She groaned.
"…Why don't we head downstairs? Let's see," one fold at a time, he rolled his sleeve while passing her, "there's food in the fridge, but that's for you to take home…"
"I'll just eat those," Sally replied hurriedly. "You don't have to cook—"
"Ah, yes," the boy snapped his fingers. "How does Spaghetti and Meatballs sound?"
"Oh. Well…" It sounded great, actually. Sally swallowed. "It's fine, really. I can just eat the food—" Growl. "—in the… fr-fridge…" She fell silent. It was the third time her stomach had betrayed her in this short afternoon.
The boy stopped before the door and tilted his head back in her direction.
"…Well," Sally licked her lips and, immediately, wanted to smack herself. Self-control! Where was self-control when she needed it most? "…I'm sure the other foods are delicious too…"
"Spaghetti and Meatballs it is." Slowly and aggravatingly, the boy's lips twitched upwards. He turned away just as she felt the need to squirm.
The pneumatic doors swung open.
"What a coincidence, the two brats love it too."
It took her a second to process what he meant. "You know what?" She stormed after him. The sunset disappeared outside the antechamber. "No thank you, I don't want Spaghetti and Meatballs. I'll have whatever's in the fridge."
"Shh," his voice echoed from ahead of her. "Be good, I made pudding."
"I'm an adult, Emiya!" She huffed, falling in steps by his side.
"Yes, yes. That you are. That you are."
"…So… How many did you make? …The pudding…"
"Enough to feed the three of you."
"…Oh. Okay."
"Can pudding really… explode?" Licking the tomato sauce from the corner of her lips, Sally leaned around the boy for better visuals on the stove.
They sat facing each other across one of the kitchen islands. The spaghetti had been delicious, and Sally couldn't contain the bubbling anticipation she had for the sweets. It was simmering just a distance away, in a dish, that was placed within a water-filled pan, slowly being brought to temperature.
"Yup! It goes—" Rachel stuck her tongue out and blew. "Plghhbb! And then splat!
Percy, standing dutifully by Emiya's side, bobbed her head furious.
"Yes," the boy drew her attention, his eyes scanning the slip of paper her daughter had placed in front of him.
From where she sat, Sally counted five sentences in scribbly yet familiar handwriting.
"It can explode," the boy nodded, returning the slip, "that is, of course—"
Percy snatched away the piece of paper with sparkling eyes.
"—under circumstances arising from a heavy hand of idiocy."
With a splitting grin, Percy pocketed her homework.
Percy! Sally resisted the urge to cover her face as she watched the insult fly over her daughter's self-satisfied and oblivious head. Granted, Emiya meant no harm, but was this how her little girl let others step all over her? Only Rachel seemed to sense something amiss, her unfocused eyes landing on the boy, seemingly processing the comment deep in her little world.
Noticing his sister's absentminded gaze, Emiya returned the gesture lazily.
Sally watched the two redheads maintain a painfully blank staring contest. Then, ever so slightly, Emiya's mouth hooked into a subtle smirk.
"Hah!" Rachel jumped, pointing an accusatory finger. "I knew it!"
Percy looked up in surprise.
"You said something bad! Right?" Rachel puffed her chest.
Percy's brows scrunched together.
Retracting her arm, Rachel held her chin and thought deeply. "You are… you are being mean! Again! You made fun of us, right? You—" She thrust her finger at him once more. "You called us idiots!"
Percy's eyes widened in shock.
Sally bit her lips. Her poor daughter. At least this would prepare Percy for the real world… she hoped.
"And?" The boy drawled, breaking Sally out of her musings.
"You should respect us!" Rachel pointed her nose at the ceiling.
Percy nodded quickly.
"Hm," the boy studied the two, "I can't think of any reasons why I would."
"Well, I'm older!"
"But dumber."
"I-I'm taller!"
"And dumber."
"I… I have longer hair?"
On the sidelines, Percy twisted a tuft of her pixie cut. Her daughter pouted. Clearly, it was not as long as Rachel's frizzy strands.
The boy looked between the two. "Definitely dumber."
"Argh!" Rachel threw herself onto her brother and clamped down on a mouthful of his hair. "Chake jish!"
The stool instantly lost its balance.
Setting his hand against the countertop, Emiya steadied their tipping and, with a much larger Rachel still wrapped around his torso, turned to Percy. "Anything you wish to add?"
"Well, uh…" Percy glanced between the siblings. For a second, the girl was quiet, and Sally could see the little cogs turning her head. "…So, uh, I don't have to turn in the five sentences tomorrow, right? Not anymore, because y'know…" She gestured hopefully, completely ignoring Rachel's incessant blinking.
At least her daughter had some level of survival instincts, Sally breathed in relief. Rachel, on the other hand… Sally felt her heart skip as Emiya—once again—firmly placed his palm against the table in moments before disaster. The toppling chair was righted while Rachel continued to swing her weight around, trying to uncouple the boy from the chair.
"No, Percy," Emiya jabbed his thumb into his sister's side, eliciting a flurry of muffled squeals and frantic squirming. "There's nothing due tomorrow for you. Not from me, at least."
Her daughter sighed in relief.
"Whether or not you have assignments due for school, that is out of my hands."
Percy gagged.
"Puwah!" Spitting out a mouthful of wet hair, Rachel hopped off her brother. She circled beside Percy, dragging her catatonic daughter out of the kitchen. "Let's go, Perce! We'll get him another day!"
Soon, the girls were gone. They disappeared down the corridor, a determined Rachel dragging a frowning Percy who was still wracking her brains for any homework she may have missed.
The air was quiet with their absence.
"Do you need a napkin?" Sally pointed at his drool-covered locks. The patch was a shade darker than its surroundings and twisted into expressive clumps from the aggressive chewing.
"I'm fine, thanks," the boy waved. "I'll shower later."
"You're… awfully tolerant of this type of behavior."
Emiya shrugged. "You either get used to it or it drives you crazy."
"Call it what you want," she smiled, "but you just like to spoil her."
"Believe whatever you want," he hopped off the stool, and before she could stop him, carried her plate to the sink.
Folding her arms onto the table, Sally slumped forward against the countertop, using them as makeshift pillows while she watched him move about. "Then I'll believe what is true," she muttered.
The boy snorted, shutting the tap. "I'll be back, sit tight." With that simple command, he vanish into the shadows of the corridor.
Yawning, Sally slipped off the stool and stretched. The massive sink was all but empty except for her dining ware. Making quick work of the plate, Sally dried her hands, shutting the door to the dishwasher.
With a few clicks, the hum of the machine lulled in the air.
Emiya returned to the kitchen with a jar. "Take a seat."
"What is it?" Sally asked but did as she was told.
"How are the legal proceedings?" He asked, unscrewing the lid.
"Oh," a hint of exhaustion flashed in Sally's eyes, but she immediately shook them away. "We're in the final stages now. Just a few more weeks and it should be over."
"Good," Emiya nodded. "The petition? Has that been filed already?"
"Not yet, but in a few weeks," she hesitated, glancing down at the sleeves that covered the entirety of her arms. "We're just gathering enough evidence. My lawyer said the more the better."
Clink.
The jar was placed on the counter. Emiya gestured with his chin. "Arms."
"What?" Sally blinked, taken aback. "…Why?"
Emiya looked up at her impassively. With how tall the stool was, his head barely reached her stomach. But regardless, his gaze was able to make her squirm
Sally extended her arms while muttering under her breath, "bossy." Her sleeves were rolled up past her biceps.
"These are new," he placed her hands down and grabbed the jar. With a flick, his finger scooped up a dab of ointment. "What are your plans when the papers are served?"
She winced slightly at the cool sensation. "Well," Sally pursed her lips, her eyes downcast.
"Go on," he urged as he began applying the ointment.
She stared into her lap. "I was hoping Percy could stay with you guys during that period… And I know it might take a while, but… but I think she'd be the safest with you. If that's okay."
"And you?"
"I'll find a place to stay," she nodded to herself.
Emiya raised an eyebrow.
"I can take care of myself," she glanced at him and rolled her eyes.
"Uh-huh," he pinched her lightly and poked at one of her bruises. "Doesn't seem like it to me."
Sally grumbled, rubbing away the ticklish sensation.
"You realize we have more than enough rooms to house a few extra guests. Our residence is more than spacious."
"Well, I wouldn't want to—"
"Intrude? You wouldn't at all."
She closed her mouth slowly.
"The adults are too busy to bother, and they could care less, especially if Rachel's happy." He rolled down one of her sleeves as he moved on to her other arm. "And there certainly won't be a second opinion after I speak with them, which won't be necessary to begin with."
Frowning, she gathered her thoughts before speaking again. "But getting a hotel ispretty simple. And I'm not that helpless."
The boy clicked his tongue. "I was under the assumption that your financial situation is less than ideal."
"…I could get by," she muttered as her eyes darted away. It wasn't a difficult task. After all, she'd set aside some money to rent out a place for a few weeks. "I… I'm a grown woman," Sally straightened her back, attempting an air of responsibility. It swiftly and effortlessly evaporated under his stare. She gulped. "I, uh… I can handle this much on my own."
Sizing her up, he shook his head and rolled down her other sleeve. "You'd have to be more convincing than that."
"Everything's under control…."
He screwed on the lid for the jar.
"Really," she grumbled.
"I suppose if you define 'under control' as no lasting damage…" He set aside the ointment, folding his arms as he studied her. "Then yes, you haven't sustained any crippling injuries. Not yet. Though, this is dragging on more than I'd prefer… Perhaps I should resolve this myself."
"No," Sally bit her lips. Anything but that. "I… I can take care of this myself…"
The boy scoffed. "By eating fists instead of eating food?"
Ouch. "That's…" That's not because she wanted to. But they have—they were already taking too much.
And they never gave back…
They couldn't give back.
Not in any meaningful way.
It's not right.
The stove whispered in the background. Its pale blue crown glowed against the bottom of the pan. The boy made his way over and turned it off with a click.
"Your debt," he began, "and your need to reciprocate. They are all, simply, an illusion of your conscience."
"…But you've helped us so much already—" she tried to swallow, but her throat felt stiff. "The pendant—and everything else—I'll never be able to return something of equal value… not even remotely…"
"And did you think I wouldn't know that? That, to me, there is little you can offer?"
"But—"
"The weight of a debt is determined by the one to whom the dues are owed, at least in any significant matter. If the benefactor places little value on its return, then rationally, the burden of obligation should diminish," the boy removed the pan from the stove. "Just like how you have assigned a value to the pendant, I have assigned a value to your debt."
Sally bit her lips.
"But I understand," he continued with a hum, setting the pantry down. "We are irrational…"
Lifting her gaze, she peeked at him through her hair.
His eyes were shut, a look of almost peacefulness—if not for the frown creasing his brows. He scoffed, fingers drumming slowly against his lap.
She had never seen him this… vexed
"Just because a notion is correct, doesn't mean it…" His lips twisted in distaste. "Feels right."
Sally's gut told her it had nothing to with her—nothing to do with now. It was almost as if he was reminiscing… reminiscing of worse times.
The boy breathed. And then it was gone, erased with the easing of his brows. "I will impose conditions," his amber orbs met her gaze. "Adhere to them, and I will allow you to deal with this situation by yourself. Fail to do so, and I will intervene, and resolve matters my way. Understood?"
"Yes." Sally nodded quickly, staring intently at the boy as she awaited further instructions.
"The conditions are rather simple. You will assess the situation—I will trust that you will be fair—and whenever the event of your livelihood coming under threat becomes probable, you are to inform me of your circumstances, immediately. Then, I will determine how we proceed."
"Okay. I Promise." She nodded again.
"You have a phone. If it's an emergency, call me."
Sally huffed. "Please, Emiya, I'm an adult."
The boy stared at her unwaveringly. "Are you going to use your phone or not?"
"Okay, fine," she grumbled. "I will. I will call you if there's an emergency, okay?"
"Good," his stern expression eased away. Then, in a shower of breathtaking blue molts, a glass stand appeared in his hand.
A moment later, a glistening pudding was placed before her. It jiggled deliciously, the caramel pooling into the dessert coupe.
Sally swallowed.
A silver spoon clinked against the crystal glass. "Now eat."
Gingerly, she reached out. The warm heft settled in her cupped hands. It was soothing, like a tiny heart of glass that sent nothing but waves of comfort into her.
"You still haven't explained your weight loss," the boy commented offhandedly, no longer focused on her form. "Care to elaborate now?"
"Ah… Well," gripping her pudding a little harder, Sally chuckled. "I've been spending more on the things that Gabe likes. Keeps him complacent for the time being, you know?"
"…I'll have food delivered to the candy shop. You still work there, correct?"
"Mm." She pursed her lips.
The boy nodded and shut his eyes.
The spoon chimed against the glass. Hurriedly, she sent the silverware into her mouth
How long has it been?
Ah.
Probably not since that afternoon in kindergarten—clear skies bled orange and red by the fiery sun.
To her adolescent mind, the weeks had passed in a flurry.
The sweet scent of flowers had burned her throat as her lips were salted by passing tears for the umpteenth time.
She had stood at the front of the crowd. Towering adults flanked her. She watched their caskets lay side by side, covered by dirt.
Shovel by shovel.
Her heart had torn a new gash with every stab of metal digging into the earth. But it had long since numbed, withered from the dozens of nights passed out with hoarse throats, so it could only ache with a dull pain. For so long, that morning had seemed like a dream—a hallucination of a child. The remains of the plane had seemed like a conjuration of her mind through the blurry television, and so had the news of her parent's death.
The two decades after that had passed differently, slowly… agonizingly. She had wanted to grow up fast, leave the house that was not her parents', and find a corner in this vast world that did not suffocate her. Yet, when life had prematurely thrust her into adulthood, she had not been prepared for the burdens.
Eventually, she had been charmed by the man who would become the father of her child.
But he did not stay.
The story of Sally Jackson had been a slump through and through, the only beacon being her daughter—the remaining ember of warmth. But it was just that, a flickering match in a world of dredging winter. It could barely keep her alive.
But now, she had found something more.
The pudding tasted more salty than sweet.
Sally raised her sleeve and quickly rubbed her eyes.
She fed herself another spoon.
And then another.
But the taste would always return to a mix of salty and sweet.
So, she'd raise her sleeves again.
And the boy would remain silently by her side.